Reality of a One Night Stand
by bjxmas
Summary: When life became too difficult, Dean chose the one night stand:a physical release and a temporary pleasure. His body’s pleasure could fool his mind into thinking he was alright. Two broken souls connecting as one and for one night pretending to be whole.
1. Perceptions

**Set basically anytime after Provenance, when the brothers again meet up with John to do some hunting together. **

Reality of a One Night Stand

Chapter One - Perceptions

"Where's your brother?" John asked as Sam returned to the motel room alone.

"Dean got himself a hookup. Another one night stand to add to his collection." Sam replied in his superior tone.

"What's with the attitude, Sam? Since when do you get to pass judgment on your brother?"

"What are you saying Dad? You approve of him whoring himself around? With all the diseases out there it's a wonder he isn't on a permanent dose of penicillin." Sam replied with disgust.

He'd had a nasty fight with Dean. Another hurt, angry, blowout fight over Dad, as usual. Sam had again bristled at Dean's blind obedience to a father who obviously had better things to do than spend time explaining himself to his sons. Sam was mad. Mad at Dean, mad at Dad, mad just for the hell of it, and his mouth was spouting words his mind hadn't even processed. He was mad and hurt and he didn't care one iota if he was being fair to his brother or not.

Problem was _John did._

"So Sam, when did you become so judgmental? Or were you always and I just didn't notice? I mean….I know you've always judged me, always thought I fell short of what you expected, what you wanted. But your brother? How can _you _judge him?"

"Might have known you'd defend him. Gotta protect your perfect son."

John stood staring at his youngest in disbelief, debating with himself whether to try and reason with him one more time. Deciding whether to give him the explanations he always claimed he wanted, or just walk away and leave Sam to his twisted perceptions.

He really didn't want to get into this right now at this particular point in time. He was too damn weary for another confrontation with Sam, still….damn it all! Sam needed to see the truth for once. It was about time he understood his brother and since Dean would never confront Sam on this, he knew it was up to him to defend his oldest against these accusations.

John took a deep breath to settle his anger and calm his frustration. If he was going to do this, he needed to be clear headed. He needed to make sure he said all he wanted to say, cause he sure as hell wasn't gonna have this conversation again. After a reflective moment to gather his thoughts he continued.

"Sam, do you remember your Senior Prom?" John calmly inquired.

"Yeah, Dad I do. So what's that got to do with anything?" Sam defiantly answered.

"Remember Dean waxed the Impala, spent all day detailing her, and then he let you drive his baby. He gave you the money from his poker winnings to take your date out to eat. You had a good time, didn't you? A real normal time, just like you always wanted."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, you remember when Dean went to his Senior Prom? For the first time in his life, I actually encouraged him to go, must've been that head injury I suffered that month. For once in his life, he was going to do a normal teenage thing."

"He went to his Senior Prom? I don't remember that."

"Well smart guy, you don't remember cause he never made it to the Prom. He made the date with Stacy, had the tux and everything. I think he was actually excited about it. He always liked Stacy." John stopped, distracted in a far away memory, a memory that seemed at first pleasant, but soon descended into painful the more he thought about it.

He looked at Sam with moisture in his eyes, a pain lingering there that Sam had never before noticed. He took a quick ragged breath before continuing, "Then that couple in Pittsburgh called cause a poltergeist had ripped apart their house. They had a daughter, a high school senior, who disappeared into the thing. They called frantic, begging for help. I was chasing down that black dog down south, so Dean went up to help….

He shouldn't have done it. He wasn't experienced enough and it was too big a job for just him, but they needed help so he went. He saved that girl so she could go to her Senior Prom….

He ended up in the hospital and we almost lost him. Missed the prom and never once complained. Never once questioned whether he made the right choice or not. That's the man I know. The man who always puts everyone else's needs before his own. The man who never asks anything for himself. Hell, I don't think Dean even realizes he deserves something for himself, and believe me, I _know_ I'm to blame for that."

John sat down on the bed, exhausted from his candor. His hands cupped over his eyes as he inhaled deeply, facing his son's sacrifices for the first time himself, regretting all the times he had let Dean sacrifice himself for others, all the times he himself had expected it, _demanded it_.

"Dad, I didn't know." Sam weakly admitted.

"Yeah, well Sam you should be the last one to put him down. He's given up more for you than anyone. He took on the responsibility of raising you. You think I wasn't the father you deserved? Well, you're probably right. I certainly wasn't the father Dean deserved.

He grew up way too fast, and I let him cause I needed him. I couldn't afford to let him be a child, so I didn't. Maybe you think you didn't have the childhood you wanted, but you certainly got the best childhood Dean could give you under the circumstances.

He always did his damnest to give you everything he never had and never even asked for. That's who your brother is."

Sam stood staring, dumbstruck at John's heartfelt confessions. His dad had never in his life been this forthcoming. He silently wondered what had possessed him to reveal all this now. Leery that the mood might shatter and end his dad's epiphany, he patiently waited, not wanting to disturb the man's train of thought, lest he clam up again and never reveal what he was on the brink of disclosing.

"I knew a man in the Marines, never married, always said the Core was his wife. He spent his entire life serving his country and visiting hookers when the pressure got to be too much.

We got drunk once and he told me how lonely he was, how he wished he had a wife and kids, but he always had this overwhelming sense of duty. Whenever he tried to have a relationship, she always knew she rated second and it just never happened for him.

You don't think your brother would want one woman to come home to at night? You don't think he'd want his own family? You don't consider that I'd want that for him?" John stopped, overcome by regret and the immense weight of his guilt.

"Dad, I never realized." Sam tried to comfort his dad, tried but couldn't quite bring himself to actually touch him, the miles of estrangement still imposing an insurmountable gulf between them.

"The worst part of it is I always thought Dean was better off without any entanglements. If he never fell in love, he would never be hurt like I was. He would never experience losing his great love. I thought I was protecting him. What the hell did I know?

When he met Cassie, he changed. Two weeks was all it took for him to fall in love and then lose that love. I never saw him happier than he was with her, still I couldn't let them be. I always thought I knew best. He was a hunter and the road was his home. I told him to leave her behind, to move on.

My perfect son, the obedient soldier you always see, hesitated. He wanted her, wanted her for himself, wanted _something_ for himself for the first time in his life….

Ultimately, I won out. They broke up and he was back riding shotgun for me. My big victory.

It wasn't 'til much later that I realized what I'd done. I denied my son the chance to know the happiness he could have had. I denied him the happiness I found with your mom. I had six years with Mary and I wouldn't let go of one day of that, even knowing all the pain that came when she was taken away.

Dean never got that chance. He could have tried with Cassie, but I wouldn't let him. I needed him and he lost her. He sacrificed his hope of a real love because of this damn job, and I let him do it. _Hell, I demanded it._"

"Dad, I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry I put Dean down. I didn't mean it. I was just mad, you know?" Sam replied, implicitly asking for forgiveness with his tone.

"Sam, you know what today is?"

"Monday, Oct. 16th?"

"Cassie's birthday. Their first date was on her birthday. Your brother had barely two weeks. Two weeks of normal, before this job stole the rest of his life. I wish you could've seen him then. I barely recognized him. He actually smiled and laughed those two weeks."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I did meet Cassie; I think he still loves her."

John looked up, momentarily locking eyes with Sam, eyes filling up with tears of bitter regret. Sam gasped from the sight. He had never before seen such emotion welling up in his strong, rigid father. He could barely believe his eyes.

"Well, that just makes it all the harder doesn't it? I had your mom for six years; you had Jessica for two years. Can you imagine what it would feel like to only have two weeks?"

They both sat in silence, contemplating that tragedy, before Sam finally spoke.

"Dad, you remembered Cassie's birthday?" He softly asked with amazement.

"No. I overheard Dean call Cassie this morning to wish her a Happy Birthday. Dean remembered. I could see it in his eyes all day: the regret, the broken dreams, the lost possibilities. Dean may never have more than those two weeks and it breaks my heart, and it should break yours too.

I know your brother wants more than a one night stand, he just doesn't believe it's possible and what's worse, he doesn't believe he deserves it. And I've never done a damn thing to change his mind." John sighed.

"Dad, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too. Dean risks his life every God damn day and if he needs to find comfort in a willing woman's arms then so be it. Really Sam, who is he hurting but himself?"

TBC

Next chapter, Dean's POV

**Thanks for reading, if you care to leave a review, it would be much appreciated.**


	2. Illusions

Reality of a One Night Stand

Chapter Two – Illusions

The soft, silky skin beneath his touch was comforting, an escape from the harsh reality of his life. Sometimes with his work, he wondered if there was any beauty left in the world; it was so easy to get lost in the constant desperate pain of the darkness. When the pressure of his job, his duty, his calling became too much to handle, he found solace in the arms of a willing woman.

Why would that make him a slut? Why couldn't Sam of all people understand his need to escape? After all, Sam was the great escape artist. He had deserted his family and gone halfway across the country to deny his destiny. Why then would he begrudge his brother his refuge?

"Hey, lover. That was one amazing night." The sound of an angel wafted into his thoughts. She sure sounded like an angel, although he had thought differently last night in the throes of passion. He was sure at one point he had picked up the devil in a blue dress, when the heat of their passion ignited his soul.

"Morning. You sleep well?"

"Yeah, once we got around to sleeping." She grinned as she studied his handsome face, circling her fingers on his chest, detailing every muscle with her soft sensuous caress.

"Where did you get all these scars? A body like yours shouldn't be scarred."

_Here we go again. Gotta preserve the image. Can't be the perfect pickup guy if you're gonna bleed all over them. Remember they don't want the truth, they can't handle the truth!_

"I told you, shrapnel in Afghanistan. Almost bought the farm over there…. twice." Dean smiled, knowing that was always a sure way to get a morning repeat of the night's festivities.

"Oh, my poor hero. Let me see if I can make it better." She cooed, snuggling up to him with renewed passion. She had time for one more quick interaction….

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"You sure you gotta go?" Dean asked, watching her slip her blue silk blouse on over her lacy black bra. Her trim hips were already encased in a skintight, black leather miniskirt, as her long, sexy legs slipped into her heels and she struggled to maintain her balance.

"Yeah, big appointment at 9:00 this morning. You got my number? Give me a call next time you're in town, maybe we could do a repeat?" She smiled before returning to the bed where he still lay, giving him a slow, lingering kiss before turning and running out the door.

The morning after was almost as bad as the night, before he found that willing partner. The emptiness of the motel room, quiet and still with just his thoughts to keep him company, loomed larger than any monster he needed to vanquish. A vast expanse filled only with the thoughts he wasn't in the mood for, not now.

Somehow his thoughts always returned him to places he didn't want to be. Hell, that was the whole purpose of this one night stand, to take him away from unpleasant memories and feelings, yet they always came back to bite him in the ass.

He had tried to explain to Sam that if two consenting adults could find comfort in each other then what was the harm? He had tried to get Sam to loosen up and have some fun with Sarah for his own good, and Sam had accused him of pimping him out. _Damn it Sam, when did you become so righteous?_

Sam was lucky, he had known real love. He knew what love was and he didn't want to settle for anything less. Dean envied him, was jealous even. After all, he could hardly relate to that. _What do I know about love? _

He could hardly fool himself into thinking this woman or any of the others, really wanted to know _him_. This _thing_ wasn't about love or commitment. This was a release, pure and simple. A pressure valve when life became unbearable.

Sam thought he used women. Little did he understand how this all worked. Usually it was the women who scoped him out, making their desires known. The women he picked up usually wanted the same thing: his hot, appealing body next to theirs, a steamy night of passion and sex with no commitments or entanglements. Sometimes that's all he wanted too…, _sometimes_ he ached for more.

He knew the reality was they hardly let him pick them up because they were interested in his mind, his thoughts or his dreams. No, they simply wanted the surface appeal of his body. They wanted the pretty package, and yeah, mainly _that_ package. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he was a whore. The thought of Sam's words made tears well in his eyes, _damn it all._

He lay there considering whether it was a blessing or a curse to be this damn desirable. It allowed him the opportunity of escaping his sordid life, yet he was under no illusions they wanted to know _him_. They didn't want to know the real him, most would run screaming from the room if they had any inkling who Dean Winchester really was. They would freak out if they knew the things he'd seen or what he was capable of doing.

Maybe it _was_ a curse, for as many women as he had bedded, few actually ever saw him. And it hurt to know that. It hurt to know that all these beautiful women who so desperately wanted him in their beds, would never want him in their lives.

And then his thoughts traveled to the one place he had so painstakingly tried to avoid, but would never leave him alone. _Cassie._ Cassie had proven what he had only suspected before, that he was unlovable, damaged beyond salvage.

Cassie had proven that beyond any doubt. He had let himself love her and look where that got him. He had laid down his protective shield and opened his heart and soul only to be skewered and roasted in the lapping flames of hell.

Sam had been so smug when they went to see Cassie after her father's death. Needling his brother on what his relationship was, on why he had told her the truth. He just kept picking at it until the truth was finally revealed and then the pity in Sam's eyes had made him want to scream from the bitter irony of it all.

He never wanted Sam's sympathy, but he had hoped for his acceptance. A part of him wished his brother would just understand _why_ he engages in casual sex and quit giving him constant grief. The other part was grateful Sam had never experienced these hollow feelings and therefore couldn't comprehend the void in his brother's life and why he would choose to fill it on occasion with one night stands.

He had always wanted the best for Sam. He'd never want Sam to know the emptiness of one night stands. Sam had known love, real passionate 'I can't live without _you' _love. All Dean had known was 'yes, yes, I love what you do to me with that body of yours' sex.

Dean was very experienced with the physical aspect of making love; the emotional was another story entirely. Cassie had been his one attempt at love and that certainly didn't end well. When they reunited after her dad's death, he again hoped for more, a permanent connection, but she had proclaimed she saw no hope for them. _No hope for him._

The final nail in his coffin. The final realization that he was not normal, never would be normal, and didn't fit into respectable society. Not that he ever wanted to be normal or respectable. He just didn't want to be the leper his brother seemed to think he was. He never really cared what regular people thought of him, but what Sam thought had always been of utmost importance. And it hurt to know what he thought of him. How he saw his older brother.

Dean was hardly naïve. He had been doing one night stands long enough to know the patterns. The need grew the greatest when the hole in his life got the biggest. When the emptiness threatened to swallow him whole and make him disappear entirely is when he had to find comfort somewhere to drive it back to a reasonable size.

He'd seen too much in his life to deny it. He could have always chosen the bottle as his release, but the hunter in him knew that was not an option. You always had to be ready for a fight.

So he chose the one night stand: a physical release and a temporary pleasure. An avoidance of the pain that would resurface with the morning light, but at least the dark would be less desperate.

His body's pleasure could fool his mind into thinking he was all right. He could lose himself in the act as he succumbed to the soft, tender flesh and sweet aroma of another lost soul. _Two broken souls connecting as one and for one night pretending to be whole._

Reality was just a sunrise away, but this was all he was allowed, so it had to be enough.

TBC

Next chapter the confrontation.

**Please review. Please, please. Oh, thank you!**


	3. Forgiveness

Reality of a One Night Stand

Chapter Three - Forgiveness

Dean lay there in that motel bed for another twenty minutes, his mind replaying the previous day and night. His body tired and not willing to rise to face another day of emptiness and despair. If he rose and dressed his only option was to return to Dad and his brother, and he wasn't sure if he was up to facing Sam again. The previous day's words still stung and ached in his soul, worse than any physical pain he had ever suffered in their hunts.

Sam had really hurt him and he didn't want to admit that to himself, let alone let anyone else see his pain. In Sam's eyes he had proven his point with absolute clarity when he left with his pickup, just like Sam had predicted. _Damn him and his superior attitude._

Dad had never said a word about his one night stands, other than to use good judgment and protect himself from disease. Dad understood. Hell, Sam probably thinks Dad's lived as a priest since Mom died. Dean paused, truth was he didn't really know what his dad did, he just always assumed he found comfort somewhere, anyway he hoped he did. Just like he had hoped Sam would find comfort with Sarah.

After all, men have needs and what the hell are you supposed to do when you never stay in one place longer then the job dictates? What did Sam expect him to do? Live like a monk? That sure as hell wasn't gonna happen.

He glanced at the clock and forced himself to rise and head to the bathroom for a shower. Check-out would be coming and he needed to get his act together, no sense postponing the inevitable.

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Sam awoke to find John already dressed and packed to leave. He grunted a low 'morning' before heading to the shower. His mind was still processing his dad's blunt admissions from last night; he could hardly believe the man he had known all his life had been so forthcoming. He secretly wondered if Dad would ever be so straightforward with Dean, if his brother knew how he understood and defended him.

He exited the bathroom to find his dad still sitting at the small table writing in his new journal.

"You heard from Dean?"

"No, he'll be along shortly. He knows we need to check out." John replied without looking up.

Sam wondered for a second if he regretted his candor from the night before. Were his writings in his journal so important, or were they an excuse to ignore his younger son's scrutiny?

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts and he walked quietly across the room. He opened the door to find his brother standing there with a fast-food tray with three hot coffees.

"Someone order coffee?" Dean asked with a too chipper morning voice.

"Just what the doctor ordered." John replied with a smile as he took a cup of joe.

"Thanks, coffee sounds good." Sam quietly added.

Dean plopped down on one of the beds, flicked off the lid of his cup and intently drank his coffee.

"So Dad. Where we headed?" He casually inquired.

John looked up from his journal, his eyes studying his older son, "Maybe we should take a short vacation. Take some time off."

"What are you smokin' Dad? You don't take vacations or time off. What's going on?" Dean asked, suspicion brewing in his mind, nervously aware of the concern radiating off of his brother and dad, feeling their attentive gaze upon him.

"I just feel tired and need a rest. I think we could all use a rest. Maybe we should go to the shore, see the ocean."

Anger flashed in Dean's eyes, "What the hell is going on? What did Sam say to you?"

"Dean, I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I was just mad, you know? I didn't mean any of it." Sam apologized.

Dean leaped from the bed facing off against his brother, exploding with pent-up fury, his cup of coffee spilling over his hand before dropping to the floor to soak into the dingy carpet.

"Stow it Sam. You meant every damn word. Don't back off now. You've always thought I was a slut and guess what? Maybe I am! Maybe you're right after all. But what the hell, Sam. Why the hell do you care what I am or what I do?"

"Dean, don't. Don't put yourself down like that." John quietly interjected as he stepped between his sons.

Dean turned his back to his family, so mad he couldn't see straight, or maybe it was the tears welling in his eyes, he couldn't tell right now. He couldn't think. He collapsed on the bed again, his hands cradling his face, the tension in his temples not responding to his fingers as he rubbed. His mind was now on overload and he wasn't about to back down or let them crush him with their concern. It was too late for that.

The looks on their faces were more than he could bear. _Damn them both._ He jumped up from the bed and headed for the door, he needed to get out of here, out of here _now_. He and his girl driving down the highway; AC/DC blasting through the speakers was all he needed to get his mind back on track.

He almost made it to the door before John blocked his way, standing defiantly in front of the motel door with his hand outstretched in a motion to stop his older son's exit.

Sam grabbed his arm from behind and the tense situation took on a life of its own as his hand tightened into a fist and he swung around with all his anger focused into a punch that sent his little brother sprawling to the ground.

Sam lay on the floor holding his jaw as blood slowly dripped from his nose, just staring at his brother in disbelief. Dean shook from the emotions still ebbing through his body, shocked himself at the brutality of his attack. He glanced at his prone brother and back to his dad, resigned and silent.

The pressures in Dean's life had been building unattended for a long time, stagnating like fumes in a fuel tank just waiting for the fuse to ignite the explosion. When the blast inevitably came he was ill-prepared to deal with the aftermath.

A huge gulp left his mouth as the reality set in. He stumbled to the bed and sat down with his head buried in his hands, breathing in and out in frantic, ragged gasps. His head was spinning and he felt himself losing that last remnant of control. His hand throbbed, but the pain in his knuckles dimmed next to the pain his heart and soul were drowning in.

John approached and sat next to his son, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder for a moment. Dean tensed from the invasion into his personal space.

"Dean, it's all right. I understand." John spoke quietly, reassuringly.

"Dad, don't…. Don't." Dean gasped.

"Son, I know you've been under a lot of pressure and I'm sorry for my part in that."

Dean felt the cracks growing and knew he was on the verge of shattering. He so didn't want to do this, not now, not like this. He needed time to get his act together, to fortify his protective wall and again bury his pain; he couldn't show how fucked up he truly was, he wouldn't.

"Dad. Please…. Don't." He begged once more, praying they would all just back off and leave him alone. Let him crawl off into a corner and lick his wounds, just give him the time to sort this out and put his mask back on.

For once his dad didn't turn away and leave him alone. John was the last person, next to Dean, that ever wanted to confront painful memories and deal with emotional issues, but for once he didn't back down and he wouldn't let his son run away. _Not this time._

"Dean, you're a good man. Believe it." John whispered, putting his arm around Dean's shoulders in a firm embrace, his son's body still shaking from the aftershocks of his emotional release.

Sam rose from the floor and gazed on the amazing scene unfolding before him.

"Dean, forgive me? Please? I didn't mean what I said. It was stupid and cruel."

Dean took another deep breath and looked up into the caring eyes of his little brother, seeing the boy he had always protected with an unwavering love and devotion. The memory forcing a nervous, hesitant smile.

"Sam, I just decked you for no reason and you're asking _me_ for forgiveness?"

"You had your reasons. I was being a bitch. I deserved worse."

"No, Sammy. You always deserve the best. I'm sorry; I don't know what came over me. I just…. I just…., I couldn't think. Sorry, man."

"Dean, it's all right… you're my hero.., my protector. I know that. You'll always be my hero. You're not a slut. I know _why_ you do it. I understand now…. Dad explained some things to me last night. He made me realize what I was too blind to see. Dean…. you're the best man I know." Sam came and sat on the bed on the other side of him placing his arm around his brother's shoulders, and grasping his dad's arm in a unified hug of Dean.

_I understand now._ The words Dean had longed to hear from his brother. Simple, plain words that carried the utmost weight and importance. All he needed to release him from this despair, his brother's understanding and acceptance. Before he could totally process those words his dad blindsided him with that proverbial last straw.

"Dean, I'm sorry you never had your chance with Cassie. I'm sorry I took you away from her." John whispered.

Dean shuddered; he looked into the pained eyes of his dad, seeing the hurt and regret there for the first time, and he could no longer hold back the tidal wave of his emotions. Tears overflowed as his resolve broke down. He sobbed as deep, painful spasms racked his body.

His dad and brother held him, gently rocking him, murmuring words of comfort until he could finally manage to speak, in a soft, broken whisper.

"Damn, it hurts…., you know?"

"I know son. Let it out. We're here."

His family held him until his spasms finally eased. The pain of this last hurt unleashing buried memories of the traumas in his life. The emotions he had held onto for so long finally released in a cathartic exorcism. A serene tranquility replaced the tension they had all been enveloped within.

A new emptiness possessed him, the hurt and pain that had filled him up now dissipating, leaving room at long last for the love that had always wanted in.

They sat there in their embrace for a long time, each rewinding their past hurts and regrets and filing them away, replacing them with the memory of this moment. Holding on to the love they always shared, but could never so freely display. Each of their eyes moist with fresh tears, tears of regret and pain now replaced with tears of love and forgiveness.

For the first time in a long time, Dean felt the comfort of his family next to him, holding him and protecting him. He looked at his brother and dad and a slightly embarrassed smile crossed his face, starting in the corners of his mouth and spreading until his eyes shone, glistening from his tears, years of anguish momentarily pushed aside by a peaceful calm.

"Sam, what did I say about chick flick moments?" Dean asked to lighten the mood, finally allowing himself to relax and breathe normally again.

"I believe you said real men have no problem showing affection to the people they love." Sam replied with a grin.

The End

**Reviews would be lovely, if you are so inclined. Thanks for reading!!**

bjxmas July 2006

All standard disclaimers apply.


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